


Wear Me Down

by Aryagraceling



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Fills [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: (with Mizuki not Kakashi), Angst, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Forced coming out, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Internalized Transphobia, Kakashi Is A Good Partner, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Mizuki...not at all, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt: bound and gagged, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Trans Umino Iruka, Transphobia, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 19:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryagraceling/pseuds/Aryagraceling
Summary: He doesn’t know how to tell her that he doesn’t want to be here, that he should be back in his apartment alone and gearing up to go out with a smile the next morning. He doesn’t know how to say that he never wanted to let it happen again, but somehow it did and did and did.He can’t tell her tonight was a failure, that he’d been had in every way, shape, and form.(Name is on the tin/in the tags. This isnota fluffy h/c fic, it is heavy on the hurt and very light on the comfort)





	Wear Me Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kakashiforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakashiforever/gifts).



> Read and reread tags, please. Established KakaIru going on about three months, Iruka has not yet revealed he is trans to Kakashi. He'd been with Mizuki for years, being pushed and manipulated into thinking he was unnatural (it does get dark, again...warnings...) and no one would love him for who he is.
> 
> The sex didn't stop, though, and tonight was supposed to be the night he stopped it for good. 
> 
> Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt Bound and Gagged, requested by Kakashiforever.
> 
> I tried to risk overtagging this, but please don't hesitate to let me know if more are needed.

Kakashi is going to kill him, of that he’s certain. He’s seen the ANBU’s rage flare over the smallest of things, promised he’d never find himself on the receiving end, but tonight Kakashi is going to find out about everything, and he will be angry. Iruka bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, hugging himself in the middle of the freezing exam room. 

The nurse doesn’t say much when she walks in. She’s not unkind, just professional, but Iruka doesn’t think asking her to have some decency as she asks him about his medical history would be welcomed. “How’s your head?” she finally asks, eyes flicking over the blood drying in his hairline. He cringes when she leans in. “We need to get that cleaned, Iruka.”

He doesn’t care how his head is. He doesn’t  _ know.  _ He doesn’t know anything save for the fact that they need to collect the skin caked beneath his fingernails and Mizuki’s release drying on his thighs. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he doesn’t want to be here, that he should be back in his apartment alone and gearing up to go out with a smile the next morning. He doesn’t know how to say that he never wanted to let it happen again, but somehow it did and did and did. 

He can’t tell her tonight was a failure, that he’d been had in every way, shape, and form.

Anko found him this time. He’d told her to come later, sure, but he’d expected to be sitting triumphant over a body instead of bound with a gag choking him. He could’ve gotten out of the bindings alone. He always did. He should’ve bolted the second she cut the ropes with a kunai too, but instead he’d slumped into her and sobbed.

Like a weakling.

He isn’t fit to be a shinobi. He can’t even push his best friend off when he’s fucking him. If Anko hadn’t come, the next morning he would’ve taken out the concealer he swore he’d never use again and used it to cover whatever bruises Mizuki had put onto him and then? He would’ve walked the Academy hallways with a smile.

Under cold, fluorescent lights, he wishes that had been the outcome instead.

“Iruka?” Shizune prompts.

“Head’s fine,” he mumbles.

“There’s rope burns on your arms,” she says gently. “Can I take a look at those?”

“They’re fine too.” It isn’t those marks that hurt. The marks that hurt are the ones he leaves on his thighs in the dead of night after he’s reminded over and over that he’s nothing more than a hole to be filled. Two, really, sometimes Mizuki takes his ass instead. His voice breaks as he speaks again. “Can you just collect the evidence and let me go?”

It should be easier, he thinks, being so mechanically examined. Step by step she goes, healing what can be healed and collecting what can be used against the person he once knew as friend. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t remember when it all started. He’d loved Mizuki once. Cared for him, at least.

He’s too  _ kind  _ to be a shinobi. Too trusting. Too foolish to know fighting back will only make it hurt more. He  _ knows.  _ He does. He knows it all and now Kakashi will too, because Anko’s probably fucked off to get him because she wants Iruka to be happy…

How can he be happy when all Kakashi will care about is his betrayal?

The questions never end. Who? Where? How? Worst of all, why--Iruka doesn’t know. “Because I need to be...fixed,” he whimpers, unable to look Shizune in the eye. “That’s what he says. ‘I’ll make you normal again.’”

Her quick inhale tells him he’s right.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and that’s when the tears begin to fall. They’re not sad tears. They’re barely even frustrated tears. Each that spills down his cheek holds rage, quietly stuffed deeper with every press of Mizuki’s cock into him. “I’m sorry.” 

Each holds helplessness, the weight of Mizuki’s body blanketing his and the feel of a gag cutting into his cheeks hard enough to make him bleed. “I’m sorry.”

Each holds  _ terror,  _ the unrelenting feeling of knowing that some day soon he’ll be used again. He’ll be shoved up against a wall or a box or the nearest tree and forced to take Mizuki while hearing how he’s worth no more than being  _ bred,  _ because he is a woman and damned if Mizuki won’t make him see it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and his voice has never sounded so small.

His name has never sounded as loud as it does breathed from Kakashi’s lips. 

Iruka huddles, feeling incredibly bare under the lights and rolling on the exam table. He tucks his legs up, knees to chest, and puts his hands over his neck like he’d learned. This way, it’s easier to catch the pieces of your heart that chip away. He can cradle them all the way home, dump them in a box and begin to patch them in during quiet moments.

“Iruka,” Kakashi says again, voice thick with something Iruka hasn’t ever heard there before. “What happened?”

“I slept with someone else,” Iruka says quickly. It’s better to get it out in the open now, so Kakashi has time to run away before Iruka wants to fall into his arms. “More than once since we’ve been dating. I let him fuck me.”

Kakashi is silent.

“I did, Kakashi.”

Yet again empty space where there should be anger, and Iruka doesn’t have time to dawdle before going home to open his thighs. 

“I said I let him  _ fuck  _ me,” Iruka yells. “Get out, Kakashi, get angry, get...fucking…” He bites the rest off with a pained moan as finally, he catches the faint ripple in Kakashi’s chakra that means anger. “Hate me.”

“Iruka, please calm down,” Shizune says softly. “Getting upset at Kakashi will do no one any good.”

“He’s supposed to be mad at  _ me,”  _ Iruka sobs. “He is, Shizune, fee--”

“I’m not,” Kakashi says. “At you, I’m not.”

“You should be.”

“Please,” Shizune says again. She sits with hands out at the side of the table, waiting until Iruka uncurls enough to see her pointing to where Kakashi’s leaning against the door. “He’s still here, Iruka. This is a safe place. Your attacker isn’t here to hurt you, but your partner would like to be there for you, all right?”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“If anything, you deserve better than someone who didn’t catch this sooner,” Kakashi says. “But I didn’t, and I’m here now.”

“You just want me for the same reason now,” Iruka sniffs, wiping his nose on a sleeve that’s seen better days. “Now that you know, you know. What I--” his chin trembles, and he  _ swears  _ he won’t let the next wave of tears fall. “Am.”

“Iruka, that’s the furthest thing on my mind right now.” Kakashi unfurls from his stance and walks over to squat several feet away from the end of the exam bench. “In the nicest way possible, I do not give a fuck what’s in your pants as long as they’re on and you feel safe from that--” Iruka feels his chakra flare, then quell as Kakashi takes a breath-- “monster. He’s a monster.”

Shizune clears her throat and both turn to look at her. “We have what we need,” she says. “Is there anything more that  _ you  _ need, Iruka?”

He shakes his head.

“We’ll keep you up to date on the testing you asked for, then,” she says. “You’re free to go. Don’t be afraid to come back if you need more help regarding this. Please.” Her eyes soften. “It does help.”

He simply shakes it again, daunted at the thought of anything more than escaping right now. His hips ache, shoulders ache,  _ soul  _ aches as she makes herself scarce, and suddenly he and Kakashi are alone. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and his nails bite into his thighs at Kakashi’s sigh.

“You have no reason to be.”

“I hid everything.”

“Yes.”

“I let him have me.”

“Yes.”

“Then you have no reason to be here,” Iruka mumbles. “I can walk myself home.”

“Do you want to?” When Iruka peers at him, his eye is wide open and earnest. There’s sorrow, yes, but care alongside and Iruka doesn’t know how to feel about that. “I want to help you tonight, Iruka.”

It’s the long seconds of silence that last eons that break Iruka down once more. He doesn’t want the clothes in the pile anymore, so he grabs his keys out of the pocket and tells Kakashi to meet him at his apartment. “I don’t want to walk,” he says, because he doesn’t trust his legs not to give out in the moonlit street.

The rooms are as dark as his heart when the door swings open. Iruka leaves it unlocked and the lights switched off as he fumbles his way out of the hospital clothes, all but tearing it before it gets pitched into the trash. His chest heaves with the need to catch some release, watch crimson stain the white of his shower or maybe puke until there’s nothing left in him. 

Maybe Kakashi will have mercy and leave him tonight.

The knock on the door shocks him from where he’s standing naked in the kitchen, and Kakashi asks if he can come in. “Wait,” Iruka croaks.

“Tell me when,” comes the muffled reply. 

Iruka pulls the blanket off the couch and drapes it over his shoulders, shrouding himself in cloth so not even the curve of his hips is visible before he cracks the door. “You have questions,” he says.

“A few.”

“I don’t have the answers for you tonight.” Iruka shuts his eyes and pulls away from Kakashi’s hand on his elbow. “I need a shower.” His pulse is thundering, the endless beat of  _ whore, whore, whore  _ telling him he needs to lay down and let it happen instead. “I need to…to…”

“Rest?” Kakashi murmurs. 

“Heal,” Iruka says. “You can sit wherever, I don’t care.” He turns away and hears Kakashi move, searching. “And I’ll be fine if you leave. I always am. I always do it alone.”

“Fuck,” Kakashi says, and Iruka looks to see him running a worried hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he continues. “I just... _ fuck,  _ I’m an idiot.”

“I hid it well.”

Kakashi slumps. “That’s not an excuse. Shower. I’ll make tea.” 

To his credit, Iruka makes it to the bathroom before the tears start in again. The door clicks and he sags against it, blanket dropping open to reveal scars and rope marks that never fade fast enough. His breath hitches as his fingers trace the sensitive skin and before he knows it, one drop, then another are gracing his chest. The thud of his head against the doorframe is bound to alert Kakashi, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Iruka slides down the frame and  _ weeps.  _

It’s not quite the same tears he sheds on a normal night, because he never has anyone else around to even  _ think  _ about being comforted by. These are tears that should stay buried under layers of sarcasm and snark and everything else he uses to cope with the knowledge he’s nothing better than  _ Mizuki’s.  _

A pawn.

He buries his face in his hands as he listens to footsteps approach the door. Kakashi groans as he leans against the wall, then settles against the door with the quiet of someone waiting for permission. 

Iruka doesn’t give it. Instead, he slides further down until he’s a mess in the fetal position on the blanket, shuddering with the effort of keeping some sense of composure. “He hurt me,” he manages. “Night after night he wore me down and took what he could because I believed it when he said no one would love me like he did.”

“That was never love,” Kakashi whispers through the wood. “Wouldn’t ever be.”

“It was,” Iruka insists. He nearly chokes on the words, body tensing at a stray pull of the blanket across his arms. “H-he did love me.”

“Iruka…”

“He fu-fucking held me down,” Iruka cries. “And he’d tell me that I  _ deserved  _ it. And I let him tie me up and gag me like a good bitch because that’s what I am, Kakashi, a  _ good. Bitch.”  _ He slams his fist down on the floor hard enough to rattle the vanity, and then cries harder at the pain that spiders up his arm. “That’s all I am.”

“Please don’t hurt yourself,” Kakashi says, and there’s that heaviness in his voice again. “You’re not a bitch. You’re...a man.  _ My  _ man?” Shadows dance across the floor as his fingers try to slide under the gap in the door, leaving Iruka to stare as he considers taking them. “I don’t know how to make this easier.”

The small quaver in his voice gives Iruka the courage to brush their fingertips together. The blanket is now wet beneath his face, cloth absorbing the overflow of what he can no longer hide. “I don’t need easier,” he says, sniffing. “I need to go back and change it all.” 

“I can’t help with that,” Kakashi says. 

“No one can,” Iruka mutters bitterly. “I just have to live with what I’ve done.” 

Kakashi falls silent again, slowly moving his fingers against Iruka’s, and Iruka is grateful. He hates the sound of his quieting sobs but it’s better than the rasp of a rope, he supposes, or the harsh zip of his pants being yanked off. More than anything, though, the nerves of Kakashi  now knowing the whole truth are causing him to tremble unstoppably. 

“Iruka?” Kakashi asks. “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t...just, don’t look,” he says. He covers himself the best he can with the blanket before reaching up to crack the door the merest bit,  _ just  _ enough so Kakashi’s hand can slip through to be held. When Iruka pokes an eye out, Kakashi’s got his face propped on his knee with both eyes shut. “Hold me a little bit,” Iruka whispers. “Like this.”

“That, I can do,” Kakashi says. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”

Iruka doesn’t say the word for a long time. He doesn’t even say it when he extricates his fingers from Kakashi’s, nor when he shuts the door again to actually attain his goal of a shower. He doesn’t say it when he falls asleep with Kakashi sitting outside of his bedroom door and he doesn’t say it the morning after when he nearly trips over Kakashi’s body. He  _ almost  _ says it when Kakashi makes him breakfast, because he doesn’t want to put him out any further, but he holds his tongue.

It is one of the first mornings after being raped he doesn’t wake up screaming  _ stop,  _ and that--though he’s sure it’ll happen tomorrow--feels like the beginning of something like hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
> You can also find me lurking and yelling about fictional characters on:  
> [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/aryagraceling)  
> [Discord](https://discord.gg/cM8FaND)  
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